Sudbina je decu Redone
by Poetgirl616
Summary: Lord Voldemort cast a mysterious curse with his dying breath. A curse of his own design that wiped out a large percentage of the Wizarding population. Desperate measures are taken, a Law is passed and the future is written and sealed in an innocent looking envelope.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, if I did a lot of stuff wouldn't have happened. I only own the new content I pulled from my imagination and typed in the space below.**

 _ **Prologue**_

The war was won, Lord Voldemort had been defeated and the Light prevailed against the Dark.

Victory was bittersweet.

Celebrations were halted when a large unidentified object was launched into the sky and dispersed what appeared to be a unique firework makeup. At first, it was assumed to be part of the party, but exactly one hour later a dark and sinister discovery was made. There, at the LeStrange stronghold-previously Hagrid's cabin, lay a complicated system of runes and symbols on what appeared to be a launch pad. In the next room, a magically reinforced box surrounded by breached wards lay ajar-the lid adorned with carved symbols similar to the launch pad.

Identical discoveries were made in numerous locations around the world in Death Eater controlled shops, houses, everything they could find that seemed innocent and undisturbed. Lord Voldemort's backup plan: a magically weaponized disease unlike anycother in medical history, was unleashed.

Wizards, witches, and squibs from all walks of life as well as several different countries were struck by the disease. No one was safe.

From what the Healers and Ministries could discern, the main victim pool were people from older generations, pregnant women with no pre-existing health or immune system issues and families of Pureblood descent-no matter how long removed. Squibs and Muggleborns were the largest percentage lost, but all groups were equally at risk in future.

A cure was frantically sought, but elusive.

The Weasley family suffered even more loss. Fred fell to the disease a mere two hours after it's release, Percy a few weeks later and died two hours after exposure. The older Weasley had been stubborn and it helped him survive longer than most, but not long enough. Molly Weasley was the last to become infected with the disease, surviving just long enough for her remaining family to gather around her bedside to say goodbye. Her loss was by far the most difficult. Arthur secluded himself in his home, leaving only rarely, surrounding himself with his surviving family and self assigned work.

When a month had gone by without an illness related death, the entire Wizarding World dared to hope. The illness had taken almost eighty percent of the population.

Damaged and utterly destroyed buildings were beginning reconstruction, the dead put to rest by survivors. Their wounds-physical and psychological, began to heal.

Hermione attended the mass funerals and smaller services, crying more than she felt she could after everything. So many lives had been ended, so much fear and pain spread throughout the world through the year.

Now, at least, there was a chance for peace and healing.

Once the last of the fallen were laid to rest, the sole focus was rebuilding Hogwarts and other key businesses. Life moved on as it should.

When the majority of Hogwarts was complete, need spread like wildfire. Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt, elected two weeks after the final battle, had passed a new law-a sort of marriage law.

Specifics were not released, only the reassurance that all would be explained at a later date.

Exact one week later, the Daily Prophet held true to its word. The headline read: Marriage Law Matches?

Nervous, Hermione quickly flipped to the page number provided for more information.

 _One week and two days ago, we received unconfirmed reports and rumors of a new law designed to repopulate the Wizarding community. Since then, there has been no word-confirmed or otherwise, leaving no small amount of questions unanswered._

 _Me, Myself and I is happy to inform you that has changed._

 _During an interview earlier this week, Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt confirmed the Marriage Law's existence. He also divulged some details on the mechanics of the Law._

 _An elaborate system of complex, specially designed enchantments and current consensus profiles have been used to match one witch to the wizards that best suite her._

 _I have been informed by Minister Shacklebolt that he has been working closely with MACUSA and Ministries all over the globe to set up a united network for this Law. This should prevent inbreeding in future with how low percentages are across the board in each country._

 _Witches and wizards starting from the age of fifteen and ending at the age of seventy are required by Law to participate. Failure to comply will result in a minimum sentence of six years in Azkaban and a penalty fine of fifty thousand galleons. Further failure to comply will result in a snapped wand, and a minimum sentence of ten years in Azkaban. Should this incentive prove unsatisfactory, the accused will have his or her magic bound and will be exiled into the muggle community._

 _The matches will be sent to each person eligible in the form of a sealed letter. The minimum number of matches allowed per witch is three, the maximum number is ten. All matches are to be wed no longer than three months from the date of receiving the letter and the marriage is to be consummated. NO EXCEPTIONS!_

 _Two children are expected from each individual couple in the group marriage; two per husband. Failure to comply will result in a minimum sentence of twelve years in Azkaban and a penalty fine of one hundred thousand galleons. Further failure to comply will result in a snapped wand and a minimum sentence of twenty years in Azkaban._

 _Keep your eyes and windows open, your future will soon arrive via owl._

Hermione felt the blood drain from her face, leaving her entire body feeling cold.

There was a Law in place to force people to marry and procreate, some at the tender age of fifteen!

This couldn't be happening.

The entire Law went against everything the Light fought for in the war, everything they believed in.

She realized another horrifying thought. The article mentioned nothing about what happened to witches or wizards who physically couldn't produce children.

Anger began to boil in the young witches veins. Innocents had died to being the end to tyranny and corruption for the world. This Law was vile and immoral and disgusting! She wanted no part in it or anything to do with it!

Kingsley should know better, having fought with the Light. She was itching to find the man and demand answers, give him a piece of her mind. Hex his family bits off. Her rational mind told her that all that would get is time to cool off in a cell for attacking the Minister of Magic. The angry part of her delighted in the idea.

She wrote a short missive to Harry. He would help her keep her head and his support would be appreciated when the blasted letter arrived.

With Hermione's temper calmed, her mind turned to the other point in the matter. Her husband's.

There were chances that she could be matched with Death Eaters, men on the far side of the age requirement-wrinkled and soft minded. Cruel men, complete strangers from both sides of the globe, members of the Order, survivors she went to school with-the list of possibilities was near endless.

Damn Kingsley Shacklebolt. Damn the Ministry.

She was too young to be tied down, there were things she wanted to do before she started a family. Travel, start and maintain a steady career, find a good man she loves that understands both her and her love for her career.

Damn Kingsley Shacklebolt to any and all hells that may exist. She thought angrily.

* * *

Hermione paced the kitchen as she waited for Harry.

The waiting was the worst part. The unknown.

What if she had to marry Shacklebolt? She'd probably try to strangle the man before they made it to the alter. Even if not, he most likely wasn't exempt from the Law and that made her feel a tad better.

She ran through the known survivors of the war and disease, trying to guess the odds of who she may end up with. Not all of the news was good; a good amount were married, another decent chunk were Death Eaters, and the last group comprised of people she went to school with or knew as acquaintances and complete strangers.

Restless and impatient, she began to pace the path between the kitchen and living room.

Where was the blasted letter?!

The fireplace roared to life, the flames changed from a brilliant deep red to an eerie but equally bright emerald green. A familiar soot covered figure stepped out onto the hearth and dusted the excess soot from their clothes and hair. Harry strode across the living room and pulled her into a hug.

"Has it come yet?" He asked, pulling back to study her.

She shook her head.

He sagged a bit, relief flooding his features. "I'll wait here. We'll read our letters together. It's going to be alright, Mione."

She wished she could believe that.


	2. Matches Received

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, if I did a lot of stuff wouldn't have happened. I only own the new content I pulled from my imagination and typed in the space below.**

Hermione's POV

As the time passed, anger fled and a hint of fear began to creep through.

I clung to Harry's hand like a lifeline while we waited side by side on my worn couch.

My back was stiff, my mind alert and bombarding me with names and faces I suspected. It spun around and around, spinning faster and faster until I could no longer make out separate faces anymore.

We'd been through worse, compared to the war this was pretty much nothing. I wished there was a way to fight it, but we didn't have the strength or resources. We were still recovering from the war, it would be difficult and more damaging to the economy and overall population to start another war to rebel against the Law.

There had to be another way.

"What if my matches are Death Eaters or mostly Death Eaters? What do we do?" I whispered fearfully.

"That won't happen. Kingsley, the Order, we wouldn't let it happen." Harry reassured me, squeezing my hand.

"Wouldn't he? Harry, he created the Law and passed it, causing this mess. This Law goes against everything we fought for and he doesn't even seem to care that this is something the Dark would do to gain control. I'm not sure we can trust him to intervene at this point, he might be willing to try anything. Including distributing Death Eaters to witches in a controlled group among the united Wizarding population to ensure his goal is met." I watched, guilty as his shoulders slumped and his eyes lowered.

I hadn't wanted to destroy his optimism and put everything so harshly, but turning a blind eye to what was happening wouldn't help matters.

I, was an ass.

"You're right, as always." He said, shooting me a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

I was the worst friend that ever lived.

"Even so," Harry continued, unaware of my vicious inner thoughts about myself. "I doubt that will happen to you. You're going to beat the odds, be paired with rich blokes who have made big revolutionary discoveries and speak seven languages. The majority of either I haven't heard of, but you most likely have."

I smacked his arm, fighting down a smile.

He rubbed it in mock pain.

I rolled my eyes.

"Seriously though, Mione, you're too brilliant for most of us. You deserve at least one guy who understands what you say when you go into full research mode and inspire you to do the impossible. So, naturally they need to serenade you with Advanced Arithmancy equations and potions that can do crazy amazing stuff like kill a person instantaneously or something." He finished with a goofy grin.

"Honestly, Harry." I sighed, rolling my eyes. I did feel a little better though.

A hoot from the kitchen interrupted our small bubble of temporary peace. A second hoot followed shortly after the first.

Our letters had most likely arrived.

Harry's face changed, the skin around his eyes and cheeks tightened. His eyes turned sadder, more resigned. He tried to smile encouragingly, but it fell flat.

I watched him enter the kitchen with rapt attention. He returned holding two envelopes, my heart kicked up then jumped into my throat.

He sat down right beside me and placed my letter in my trembling hand. He held my gaze as he raised his own visibly shaking hand to his envelope, keeping it poised above the seal. "On the count of three."

I nodded, unable to speak.

"One. . .two. . .three!" He shouted the last word and we tore into the envelopes, drawing the parchment containing our matches into the light.

I unfolded my parchment as slowly as my hands allowed, part of me wanting to put off reading the names as long as possible.

I heard a sigh of relief beside me, but ignored it, focusing on my parchment.

 _Ms. Granger,_

 _The Ministry has run your information and has confirmed your best matches. Under the requirements for the Marriage Law, you have three months to marry the men listed below._

 _Lucius Malfoy_

 _Severus Snape_

 _Charlie Weasley_

 _Sirius Black_

 _Cedric Diggory_

 _Arthur Weasley_

 _Wishing you and your future husbands many happy days,_

 _Mathilda Hodgins_

Blood drained from my face and my entire body went cold.

 _No_.

Not them. Anyone but them.

There had to be an error, a typo or botched result. I couldn't be matched to them.

Malfoy. The Malfoys had me captured and tortured under their roof for information. The younger having done his best to make my days at Hogwarts as terrible as he could over the years. I didn't know much of Lucius, besides his maliciousness and superior attitude.

Severus Snape was my Potions Professor! He was in love with Harry's mom when he was in school, most likely still was, given his actions to protect her son over the years. Her ghost would stand between them the entirety of their marriage. There was little hope of civility or even mild friendship developed over years to help when the-the children were born.

I didn't really know Charlie. He occasionally shows up at the Burrow for holidays such as Christmas and on vacation, but I've never had a conversation with him. I don't think I've talked to him at all, really.

Cedric Diggory. The man survived the final task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament by pure dumb luck and instinct. He sensed something was wrong and took cover behind the tombstones, disillusioned himself and kept moving. He came back to help Harry while Wormtail and Voldemort were distracted. I hadn't had much contact with him since the war.

Sirius. Harry was called to the Department of Mysteries two weeks after the final battle. Sirius had reappeared, laying two feet from the Veil in the same clothes he wore on the day he fell. No one can pinpoint the reason he was back or how, but theories had been tossed around. He is still a playboy and lives in Number 12 Grimmauld Place, he allows the Order to hold Headquarters there even though it wasn't as active as it was since the war ended. It mainly aided the Ministry in hunting the remaining Death Eaters.

He was Harrys' Godfather. I would have to _sleep with_ my best friends' Godfather.

Worse, infinitely worse, was Arthur. He was still mourning Molly. I was to marry his son as well. I had never really looked to him as a father, which helped a small bit with the situation, but still. I grew up with his children.

I didn't know Charlie, but this blow would strain our budding marriage before we even have a chance to get to know one another.

I didn't know how to feel. My ears were ringing and my mouth was very dry.

"Mione!" Harry shouted, shaking my shoulders.

I blinked, turning my head to focus on him.

"You okay?" He asked, studying my face in concern.

I nodded, swallowing bile that was rising rapidly.

"Who did you get? Couldn't be that bad." He teased, his smile a tad forced.

I wordlessly handed him my letter.

"What was Kingsley thinking? Almost half of these are known Death Eaters!" His face paled and his fingers clutched the parchment tighter. "Snape? Sirius?"

I blinked, then closed my eyes briefly. "Read the last name."

"Arthur?!" He hissed out in one breath.

I nodded, numb.

He tossed the parchment down and scrubbed a hand over his face roughly. A glance at the couch where the paper lay and he started to pace.

I felt the need to say something, the silence was starting to become stifling after half an hour.

"Harry," I began tentatively, honestly unsure what I should say.

"We should call a meeting, have it here where I can mediate. Do you think you could get an owl to Cedric?"

I nodded, quickly standing and crossing the room to the door leading to the study.

"I'll go to the Burrow for Charlie and Arthur, then grab Sirius and Snape. I should be back in half an hour, if not, you know where I will be." Harry said, already at the fireplace and preparing to throw in the Floo powder.

Sirius still liked to drink like he had a young, healthy liver. Chances were he was drunker than six skunks and passed out at home or at Remus' cabin.

I settled down to write my letters, nerves making my hands shake slightly.

I hoped Harry came back before the others arrived.

My hopes were dashed when the Floo activated and a familiar, but not exactly friendly face stared down at me from where I sat on the couch.


End file.
